The In Between

After I got back from lovely, lovely Italy, I spent time longing to be back there. Italy changed me and it was hard to adjust back to normal life in Miami. The food here tasted gross for a while, and there was really no purpose to my days. I don't do well without purpose. Once I got back, there was about two weeks before meetings started up at school and I spent the days watching Netflix and knitting, mostly.

I went to the movies a few times, which is sort of different for me since I've sort of hated most movies for a couple of years now. First, I saw Stupid, Crazy, Love on a room mate date. I, as a rule, hate romantic comedies and movies about crap like true love and everlasting happiness, so I can't say I was a huge fan. However, the movie was worth the price of admission to see the scene where Ryan Gossling takes his shirt off. It's a thing of true beauty and I would like to personally thank Canada for their contribution to the world. Thank you, Canada. I want to hug you... and then Ryan Gossling. A lot.

I also saw Captain America for free ninety nine, which is exactly in my price range for movies. So it could have been a flaming pile of crap and I wouldn't have felt bad about it, but, as it was, it wasn't so bad. In general, I like comic book/superhero movies, and Chris Evans isn't too hard on the eyes, either. Plus Americans weren't portrayed as evil capitalists, or stupid money grubbers or anything stereotypical and negative. It was a little bit refreshing.

Harry Potter again was a good life choice, and this time I wasn't slightly distracted by the subtitles using different names for the characters. It was still pretty bittersweet to see, but worth it. I invested, like, ten years of my life into loving Harry Potter and all that that means, and now it's done. I know he will stand the test of time, but it's sad to know there'll be nothing new about him. And I also wonder what the next cultural phenomenon will be that affects so many people in that way--what will the next Harry Potter be? I certainly hope there will be one.

Midnight in Paris was a movie a friend told me about; she said I should see it due to the literary connections in it. I didn't really know anything about it except that it was directed by Woody Allen, whose work I could take or leave, and had Owen Wilson and Rachel McAdams in it. It turned out, my friend was right. I really liked it! First of all, it's sort of about Paris in the 20s, when all of these amazing artists were centered there. Let me just say that I love me some Zelda and Scott Fitzgerald, and Adrian Brody's Dali was hilariously awesome. The movie also had a nice message--which you'll have to see to get, given I don't want to spoil it--and beautiful Paris scenery, which only made my heart ache to go back to Paris. Finally, it's sort of about what I love about traveling--going off the main road, and just seeing what's out there; finding the magic of a city beyond tourist destinations and photo opportunities. Anyway, definitely rent or Netflix it.

The last movie I saw was The Help. I haven't read the book, nor do I really have the desire too. Someone told me it was hard to get into, someone whose opinion I trust, and I just don't have time to read books it'll take me ages to get into. So anyway, I saw The Help and enjoyed it as well, but it was tough for me. Civil Rights stories are always tough for me because I just wonder... I wonder if I would have been strong enough to do what was right or if I would have just gone along with society and tried to find peace with myself, as if that could be possible. Thinking about that time in American history is just sad and intense, but also powerful. I wonder what it's like to fight for something like that, to believe in a cause, to have leaders so powerful and articulate.

Emma Stone is great one of my new favorites, and I love me so me Allison Janney, too. Not to mention that the entire style of the movie--the south, the costumes--was just beautiful. If I could look like a southern housewife in the early 60s every day, I would not be mad... Except for the big hair, which just seems like a lot of work. At the end of the movie, yeah, I felt all warm and fuzzy about how this little white girl defied society and made her little piece of the world better and all that wonderful stuff, but I think ultimately I just took away that the smart, independent, writer chick ends up alone. What a shocker.

In the in between of Italy and school, my Russian Ballerina friend celebrated a birthday, which turned out to be the last one in Miami for a while. She recently moved to DC to pursue her dream, and I can't begrudge her for it. She had a birthday dinner at a place called George's in the Grove, a spin-off or whatever that's called in the restaurant world, of Le Beuchon du Grove, where Eric, T, and I ate amazing French food last year. It's this, like, fancy French place that, all of a sudden, turns into a club complete with Black Eyed Peas and a smoke machine when they celebrate someone's birthday. Weird. But the food was YUM (you can probably guess what I had... Hint: it used to have a swirly shell) and I had lovely conversation with some new people, and lovely wine, and it was a lovely evening all around. August birthdays are the best. :)

o far, the school year has been just meetings with one Freshmen/Senior day with kiddos. I'm looking forward to it, though. I've got high level and low level English kiddos, and then my journalism kids too. It should be another good year. This year is the first I'll be teaching all classes and levels I've taught before, so that is also a relief... every other year I've had to prepare from scratch. No. Bueno.

Our new principal seems good, similar to Sr. Pat, who is now in Naples. It seems like several people are doing some strange posturing or just behaving awkwardly, but I just figure I'll keep doing my job the way I know how and everything will be fine. So I'm going with that.

My classroom, my little kingdom by the sea, is all set up and ready to go. I even have four new computers for journalism, which is SUPER exciting. I can't even stand it! I'm a little obsessed with my "Jrnalism corner."

The biggest drama in my life upon return has been FIU drama, of course. For about a week I was in a craze; I didn't know if I'd be able to take classes or not. But after talking to several people, emailing like crazy, and having calming, if not necessarily helpful, lunches with friends, something worked out, as things like that tend to do, and I'm taking two classes this semester. One is Intro, which I should have taken, y'know, FIRST... but who's keeping track, really? The other is going to be an independent study project, so that'll work out perfectly. Excited to start back.

Finally, as I return from Italy another friend is moving there. I only wish I'd had the tip on this job before I came back! But a friend in Boca, who is also on Team D, is moving to Florence soon and had a Harry Potter-themed farewell. The party was very well decorated, due to some awesome *ahem* fans and decorators, but the real triumph of the night was a recipe for alcoholic Butterbeer which was a TOTAL win. :)

I'm glad to be back but I miss Lancelot. I'll get him back soon enough, though, when I get to see my fam on Labor Day weekend.

Until then...

Much love.

All Roads Lead to Rome... and Home Again

I arrived in Rome at 10:15, the same time as my traveling buddies Emily and Cait, with whom I'd parted ways back in Milan. They were kind enough to let me tag along on their plans, and I didn't really want to go to Rome alone, so everything worked out. :)

Rome is a wonder. If I ever forget driving through the city and seeing the Coliseum for the first time, I will have lost one of the most poignant moments in my life. I can't describe what it's like to see that ancient structure for the first time, plopped right down in the middle of a modern, bustling city. People drive by and around it every day, as if it were not steeped in wonder and magic. But it is. It was huge--the definition of epic--and I didn't even get that close to it; we were still in the taxi heading to our hotel.

We were staying outside the city center, on a street that, at night, is populated by women practicing the oldest profession (you get me?). Still, armed with a map and our feet, we went for a wander after we got settled in. Our destination was a pyramid--not sure what its significance was or why it was even there, but it was a pyramid, our first "sight" in Rome. We stopped and had lunch nearby, at a French-named restaurant with a Macedonian waiter who served us Italian food. Like so many things we discovered in Rome, it was quite an interesting combination. He became enamored of us, and, figuring there were three of us and only one of him, we agreed to meet up with him later that night. It could have been extremely stupid of us, but it wasn't. Turns out, we drank a beer, and wandered around Rome at night, which is beautiful. So it all worked out.

After lunch, we headed over to the Coliseum because, well, that's what you do. I didn't have my good camera with me and neither did Cait, so we opted NOT to go in and save that for another day. Instead, we walked around it in awe, marveling at age and history of what we were seeing. Cait, who loves the National Geographic and History channels, told us all about what we were seeing, which was both funny and interesting.

Like The David, I could not wrap my brain around the sheer size of the Coliseum--it's so much bigger than any photos lead someone to believe. Just as an example, here's a bit of a perspective shot. Keep in mind I'm almost six feet tall--although I look minuscule next to the epic-ness of this structure. Nothing like a giant Roman ruin to make you feel your place in the world!

We also commemorated the moment with a group shot, with the epic in the back.

That evening, we ate dinner in view of the Coliseum, with a lobster staring at us, waiting to be eaten (not by us). It was lovely.

The next day, we really set out to see the sights, but there was a minor setback--no public transportation. The trains, busses, and subway were all on strike. Neat. So we had to take a taxi to Vatican City, where we had reservations for The Vatican Museum and Sisteen Chapel and planned to also see St. Peter's Basilica. I was a little frenzied, and the walk from where the taxi dropped us off was pretty epic (there HAS to be an easier way around!), but we got there and headed into the museum.

The Vatican Museum has art and artifacts from, like, the beginning of time, basically. I'm not sure how or why they were amassed, but there is everything from Roman and Greek days, to Egyptian sarcophagus, to an entire hallway of maps (which, I think, was my favorite part). All of these hallways and rooms are simply a prelude to the main show, the reason everyone goes to The Vatican Museum, the Sisteen Chapel, which, I found out, is actually the Pope's private chapel and where the new Pope (when one is needed) will be elected. I never knew that, I guess. So anyway, we finally get to the chapel and I don't know what to expect. I've seen amazing art on this trip so far, and each piece affected me differently. I didn't know if I'd cry or be moved or what, and, in truth, I walked into the room and looked up and felt... nonplussed. I thought I would have this spiritual experience--angels singing and all of that--and I didn't. It was beautiful, yes, a masterpiece certainly, but there wasn't enough space or even the ambiance to be contemplative. It felt more touristy than anything. I wanted to be moved and I just... wasn't. However, I can imagine Pope Benny clearing the place out and being in there alone; then I could see how spiritual it could be. Still, looking up at the ceiling, and looking around at the walls, was an amazing experience; one that made me realize just HOW blessed I have been. I have seen the ceiling of the Sisteen Chapel with my own eyes.

After the chapel, we headed toward St. Peter's. The courtyard there is beautiful--I didn't mind the short wait in line because there was so much to look at and be awed by. I mean, look at this...

And these statues on the top of the building...

Saints would be my guess. I wish I knew more about each piece of art, each statue, but without a guided tour, and about six hours, I don't know that I would have picked it all up.

We got into the basilica, having dressed modestly for the occasion, after a short wait. The first important thing to see is Michelangelo's pieta, which is in the basilica behind glass. A pieta, one of his favorite subjects I learned, is a depiction of Mary holding her dead son in her arms. It was heartbreaking and beautiful, stunning along the same lines as David. The folds on Mary's robes look like fabric, not stone. I was waiting for a real tear to drip from her eyes and I almost felt like a trespasser, having dropped in unexpectedly on what was without doubt the most private and sad moment of Mary's life. Stunning.

The other piece de resistance in St. Peter's is the copper alter-piece, which is massive and beautiful. It stands in front of the altar over the tomb of St. Peter, who is buried there. Again, I was struck by the true purpose of such a building--to honor the God of the Universe who created all things. This place, this altar, the way the light fell from these windows above us, everything about it was only a reflection of the wonder that God created for us to use and enjoy. It was a reflection of the genius He allows some people to have, and what that genius can look like when used to honor Him. Fantastic.

St. Peter's was a sensory overload--it was almost good they began to kick us out because a mass was starting. I would have liked to stay a bit longer, walk a bit slower, but we played with what we were dealt and left as we were asked to do.

My quest for the entire time I was in Vatican City was to get a stamp in my passport, but, despite extensive searches, asking several randoms, and flirting with a security guard, I found out this does not exist. Sad. Day. So sad, in fact, that we stopped at a cart and got a beer. It was super awesome to walk around Vatican City sippin' a beer, like ya do. :)

After The Vatican, we went to Castel St. Angelo, a place where the Popes used to live, I guess. There was even a secret passageway from the castle to the Vatican, I guess to protect the Pope and bishops in case of attack/emergency. The view was pretty spectacular, I must admit, as most castle views are. Y'know, strategic positioning and all of that...

We walked around after the castle and into the evening, finding a random little outdoor market near a bridge where there was everything from records to dried fruit for sale. That sort of thing generally makes me quite happy, so wandering around there was fine by me. We eventually go tired and headed back to the hotel, again via taxi, for a good night's sleep before hitting more of Rome the next day.

The site everyone imagines and pictures when they think of Roma is the aforementioned Coliseum.

We went to it first thing, and got to skip the long line because we had bought the Roma Pass (if you ever go, GET IT) and headed in. It's even more fascinating inside than out. You can see the seats where people sat to watch gladiators fight animals and each other to the death. You can see the rooms and halls under where the floor would have been where these animals and gladiators were kept. And if you think it seems big from the outside, it's even bigger inside! It's absolutely fascinating. We must have spent, like, two hours inside, walking around in awe, taking jump shots, and pretending to be gladiators ourselves... Well, maybe that was just me. :)

Incredible.

From there, we saw some of the other biggies, like the Trevi fountain, where each of us tossed in a coin and made a wish. My dreams were only worth 0.02 Euro but Cait and Emily's were both worth more. lol.

Here's a bit of the fountain detail. It is really beautifully carved, and a very pictaresque, although touristy, spot. We wanted to see it at night, when it's supposed to be twice as beautiful, so we went back after dark. It was pretty much the same... but dark. lol. The gelato around there was delicious, though!

We also passed by this giant monument, the Victor Emmanuel Monument--a huge white building with copper statues all around it. I thought, the first time I saw it, that it must be some important government building or something, not a random building with no purpose but to memorialize a soldier. It was, however, a great place to play with my zoom. The locals seem to have mixed feelings about it; on the one had it's lovely, but on the other it's not functional. Still, the statues were cool to photograph.

We also saw the Panthenon, the oldest building in Rome that has been consistantly used since its construction. It's used as a church to this day. The dome, which I was pretty much obsessed with, was the one that Brunelleschi based his dome in Florence on--the one no one could figure out how to build. This was it...

Stunning. The dome is smack in the middle of the building, and opens to the sky--in fact, rain had fallen before we arrived, and there was still some water on the floor from it. I could have lay down on my back under that dome for hours just contemplating life.

As we wandered, we came upon this fountain in a piazza. Because I'm a sucker for fountains, I took a picture.

Lovely, huh? And we also saw Constantine's Arch, which comemorates Constantine who brought Christianity to Rome in, like, 300 something.

We saw all the major sights in Rome, and it was great to be there with two pretty cool Canadian chicks. We spent our last night in Rome enjoying each other and remembering all we'd seen. We were all towards the end of our journeys. They were headed to Milan and I back to Nice. Speaking for myself, I was not going back to Nice as the same person who left it six weeks before.

After the wonders and awe of Rome, I spent a day on a train, heading back to Nice. It took about ten or so hours to get there, three different trains, only one of which I actually had a booked seat on, but I'm glad I made it at all. I thought I had missed my last train to Nice (the ONE that was on time all day, of course!) but there was one more I caught. I spent that ride chatting with a lovely British lady who made sure I got to where I was going and provided stimulating conversation along the way. A thirty minute friend that won't soon be forgotten.

I got to my hostel planning to turn in and sleep, but found I had some pretty cool room mates so we all headed out for a drink. One guy was American and played piano, another was a girl from New York who was traveling after a breakup, and the third was a Finnish guy. We walked around Nice at night, enjoyed some gelato (beer flavored, weird!) and had a lovely glass of wine. I was glad to have some company, in the end. Except that the two guys snored like it was thier job so sleeping was sort of difficult...

The next day I had planned to go to this medieval village with the Finnish guy, but we missed the bus due to confusion, and I didn't feel like waiting an hour for the next one so I wandered off to explore on my own. I climbed up the chateau, which has a lovely view of the city. This was a wall on my way up, which I thought was kind of cool.

And this was the view at the top. RIDICULOUSLY blue water! I thought Miami had beautiful water!

After that, I wandered through the Fruit and Vegetable market, which was actually selling antiques at the time, and had escargot and wine for lunch. Amazing. I wanted to marry that meal it was so delicious! Then I headed to the beach, which was kind of strange. Living in Miami, I am spoiled by beautiful beaches. This beach had very little sand--the shore was made of grey rocks. It wasn't comfortable to lay on, or even sit on really, but the sound of the waves coming in, grabbing the rocks, and sweeping them out to sea over other rocks was loud and unique. I sort of fell in love with it.

I did some more wandering, some shopping at H & M and a wine store, had a crepe for dinner, and then headed back to the hostel to sleep, since I had to get up early to get to the airport on a 5:30 am bus. Fuuuunnn. But my trip home was uneventful, except that I realized I need to go to Spain soon because the three hours I spent in Madrid were filled with eye candy. Hellloooo Spanish boys! :)

For the full album of photos from my traveling days, click here.

This trip was probably one of the most life-changing experiences I've ever had. I was really working to be more "go with the flow" on this trip, and I tried to appreciate every moment and just take things as they came, which is often hard for me. I really worked on it and, while I'm not there, I'm better. I'm better not just in that area, though, I'm just better. I am in love with Italy and it makes me sad that I'm not there right now. Maybe I'm really Italian!

Although Italians may not believe in elevators, air conditioning, or screened windows, they believe in loving life, and eating great food, and being present in every moment, rather than just being there. They believe in family and making family. They don't believe in strangers, but rather people who are not their friends yet. They are beautiful.

Ciao.

Much love.

Traveling Lessons

After a nearly tearful farewell at the train station, and only half-kidding about putting Alessandro and Monica in my bag, I left on a train for Milan with two of the other tutors from my second camp, sweet Canadian girls named Ashley--who was heading off for her own Asian adventures the following day--and Emily, "Em," who I'd later meet up with in Rome.

We got to Milan without much incident, and then tried to find our hostel... which was epic. We walked by it three or four times and eventually had to call and have the guy come outside to rescue us from wandering. The thing about hostels is, though, that the staff are willing to do that kind of thing. They're just so helpful--the guy in Nice who let me raid the lost and found when I had no luggage, for example. Just awesome people. I also discovered that the street names in Milan, unlike in other cities, are named after people, and the signs tell you what the person did (Poeta, for example) and what years they lived. We had a cool little history lesson as we were lost, so that was great. Anyway... so we found our accommodations and headed out to just wander. Ashley wanted to see the duomo, which, from what I can figure, is pretty much a must-see in every decent-sized Italian town.

The cathedral in Milan is beautiful, maybe my favorite of the ones I saw. It was just... spikey and awesome. I think it's a different style than the others I saw, gothic or something. Anyway, it was white and huge and spikey and beautiful. I only wished I could magic away all the random people in the moment and in the photo.

People were just walking by this beautiful structure like it wasn't there. I'm sure many see it every day, but it's hard for me to imagine a life where I could see that every day and not just stop and look each time. I was hearing angles singing and contemplating the awesome powers of God, and others were just heading out for a drink or heading back from work or wondering what was for dinner. It was amazing.

That night, as a farewell and as a cheap way to eat dinner, we went to have an apperativo at this place the guy at the hostel suggested. Now, let me explain one of my favorite things about Italy, the apperativo. This is, basically, a before dinner drink that may be a bit more expensive, but comes with a buffet. Like, a legit, all-you-can-eat buffet of Italian meats, cheeses, and goodies. It's. Amazing. It was pretty much how I ate dinner for the rest of my trip (not EVERY day, but pretty close to it!).

Ashley left for the airport the next morning, and Em and I headed to the train station to meet her friend who would be traveling with her. It was quite a long wait, but we passed the time by people watching and thinking of the inaugural gelato we'd have once she arrived. It was worth the wait. :)

The only real item on my agenda in Milan was seeing DaVinci's The Last Supper, which I managed to find a reservation for only two days in advance (holler!). I wasn't really sure how I'd react to the painting, I never know. I'm always open to the possibility that I may be moved to tears (more on this later) or that I may just be in awe, or I could even feel disappointed (again, more on this later). When we walked into the room and saw it, I have to admit it was pretty astounding. I was in awe of how big it was, which I guess you never expect when you see the tiny paining in your Catholic grandmother's house. I was also remembering role in the novel The DaVinci Code (don't judge, it's not like I liked it), and I could understand the mystery and enigma involved in it. It's pretty fascinating, which, I think, is the best way I can describe seeing it. Absolutely fascinating.

You can't take photos inside (the fresco is already pretty badly deteriorated as it is) so I took pictures of the church and piazza where it is housed, Santa Maria della Grazie.

After Milan, I parted ways with Em and Cait, whom I'd see again in Rome, and headed to Venice, the next stop on my tour if Italy. I didn't actually stay in Venice proper, but rather an hour or so out of town, in Rosa del Piave at this little bed and breakfast. Truth be told, I stayed there for two reasons. 1) It's expensive to stay IN Venice and 2) the website said it was close to the oratory of St. John Bosco (the saint of the school where I teach, ILS), which I figured had to be, like, a sign. It was a cute little place, a B & B at which I think I was the only guest. And there was wi-fi (so beautiful!) and the couple who owned it even fished one of my rings out of the bidet (don't ask...). I was quite well taken care of, even if I had to take a bus an hour and a half into Venice.

Venice was exactly as I pictured it. I had no idea what to expect--I'd heard some say they loved it, and others complain it was boring and smelly. I fell into the first category. I promised myself I woudn't stress and I'd just get lost--literally and figuratively--in Venice. Street maps of Venice are pretty much pointless, so you just sort of have to wander, which is beautiful in a way. I walked down streets I felt like walking down; I discovered little nooks and crannys; I don't think I walked down the same street twice. I loved every minute I was there, including this, my first one, eating a cup of fruit bought from a cart.

Venice, as most know, is a city made of canals and bridges. Even the ambulances and police cars are boats. The first day, I just wandered and got my bearings, and enjoyed the scenery. This, for example, is from one of the many bridges, looking down the river.

An iconic image of Venice is the gondolier. No, I did not ride in a gondola (too expensive) but I did see many gondoliers, including this guy, taking a break from his tough job...

My second day, I took a vaporetto (water taxi) ride from the train station to the Piazza San Marco, as guided by Rick Steves. I really felt like Venice was meant to be seen from the water, and this was a cheap way to do that. I took some video of the ride, and, of course, tons of photos. The video is below; I was picturing myself three hundred years ago when Venice was a booming metropolis.

Can you imagine if this was your front yard?

Day two in Venice I devoted to seeing sights, so I began at the Piazza San Marco where the vaporetto dropped me off, and started with the church. The art above the doors is what really struck me. It was spectacular. This is just one example, there were several there. There were no photos allowed inside.

Again, I was struck by the fact that a church is meant to be the House of the Lord, and I really understood that in Italy. Each cathedral, each dome, each bell tower, looked like it was built for an omniscient, omnipresent God. The church and square were beautiful, and the gorgeous blue sky that day didn't detract from it, certainly. The Piazza San Marco is such a contrast to the rest of Venice, which seemed, to me, tiny and closed-in. The Piazza is open and breezy, and you can see for ages and ages. It's beautiful.

Also in Venice every odd-numbered year is something called the Biennale Art Festival where artists from literally all over the world are chosen to represent their countries. Each country, then, has an installation in a building all over the city. Some are free (the ones in my price range) and others are part of a bigger exhibition in the gardens of the city. I wandered into a few of the free ones--Ireland, Zimbabwe, Mexico--and enjoyed what I saw. In the Zimbabwe exhibit, there was one photographer whose focus was photos of German families who had adopted African children. It was really moving.

The last stop on my list was the Frari Church, which Rick Steves reccommended and was totally worth the 3 Euro entrance fee. There was beautiful art inside--paintings and carvings--and information about each in my guidebook.

I had pizza for lunch, and managed to find a guy who was sitting by himself and was also American who let me share a table with him. One of my favorite things about traveling is just that--sharing a meal with a stranger who becomes your friend for that hour or so. You eat, or you wander together and then you part ways, both thankful for having had someone to talk to and eat with, thankful for one less stranger in the world.

My next stop on the whirlwind tour of Italia was Florence, where I now wish I would have spent more time. I got to my hotel, run by a woman from Boston and her Italian husband, and settled my stuff and then headed out to explore. I wandered around and discovered two markets--an out door market that sells mostly leather goods, the San Lorenzo Market, and the Mercato Centrale, a covered market selling fruits, vegetables, meat, and cheeses. I had lunch at the most popular stand there, a delicious pasta con ragu and a glass of red wine, and snapped some photos. YUM!

From there, I wandered toward the Duomo, the Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore. This church is special because the dome on it was the first built since antiquity during the Renaissance. The technology was somehow lost and no one could figure out how the dome on the Panthenon (more on that later) was built, until this dude named Brunelleschi figured it out and did the damn thing. Pretty bad ass, I have to say.

There was a free tour in English, so I took it and learned all kinds of nerdy stuff. Also, the marble that the church is made from is Carrara marble--awesome; it's pink, green, and white. It's really spectacular.

Here's a bit of the outside of the cathedral. You can see the different colored marble.

This is inside, looking up at the famous dome. The art is extremely intricate and beautiful--I wanted to lay down and stare at it for at least an hour.

This is another piece of art inside the cathedral. The guy in red is my boy Dante, and this is a depiction of his Divine Comedy. The tower in the back in Pergatory, the left side represents the Inferno, or hell, and the right is heaven. I only point this out because heaven isn't at the top, like most would expect. And notice the dome of the church on the right--it's the dome in Florence. The painter made Florence heaven.

The city itself is a wonder. Everywhere you look you can see signs of the former ruling family the Medicis, and tiny little bits of beauty all around. This fountain, for example, was just waiting for me on a street corner.

My one must-see was, of course, the statue of Michelangelo's David, which is housed in the Galleria dell'Accademia. I sprung for a tour, rather than just entrance to the museum, and I'm SO glad I did. Seeing The David the way I saw it changed my life.

Here's the story: There was a giant piece of marble in the backyard of a church that had been there for 40 years or so. Great masters had tried to carve it and failed, claiming it was "uncarvable" and afraid to ruin their reputations. Until Michelangelo came along. He knew, from the moment he first touched a piece of marble, that his purpose and destiny was to carve it. That, alone, is astounding and I wonder what it must have been like to be so sure of your purpose, when most people struggle to find it... if they ever do. So he decides he's gonna take a whack (literally) at this uncarvable piece of marble because, at 26 and the beginning of his career, he has nothing to lose. And he uncovered The David, who, he would claim, was there all along and just needed to be revealed. That's a metaphor; one that, as a teacher, I need to keep in mind. There are no "uncarvable" chunks of marble--sometimes it just takes a young kid to get things done properly.

The statue, meant to be on top of the Duomo in Florence, is now housed in the museum in a space designed to perfectly display him. I couldn't help but gasp when I first saw him. The David is huge--so much bigger than I anticipated or expected. He stands alone under this beautiful, soft, lighting at the end of a huge room full of other, partially-finished works by Michelangelo. I saw him from every angle and he looked different each time I took a step. I was astounded that he has veins--and they look like they're connected to a beating heart. This giant hunk of beautiful marble looks like it's alive. I understand what a masterpiece is now and did not know that I had not understood before.

I spent the rest of my time in Florence awed and moved by The David, but I did manage to see a bit more. I walked around the Academia for a little while after the tour ended, and saw a very neat display on musical instruments, including a full set of Stradivarius stringed instruments made for the Medicis (beautiful), and learned the difference between a harpsichord and a piano (harpsichord plucks, piano hits).

I went to find an apperativo for dinner, and then wandered around killing time, reading in the Piazza della Rebubblica and people watching, until 10:20ish, when I would FINALLY get to see the final Harry Potter! I had been dying to see it since it came out, but couldn't find a theater that had it subtitled and not dubbed. Low and behold, there was an Odeon in Florence and my dreams came true. I got to see HP:7.2 in a cool old theater (a legit theater with curtains and beautiful decorations) in Florence, and, although I was alone, I loved every second of it. I'm still not at peace with HP being over, and I think I will miss him, but bidding him farewell in Florence was okay.

I wish I'd spent more than a day in Florence, but now I know for next time. I'll cut this entry short and save Rome and Nice for another. Too much epic for one entry.

Much love.

My Italian Friends and Familia

I've been thinking that I should have done all of this blogging while I was actually IN Italy, experiencing everything. But a) that wasn't really possible given the shady internet situation in most places I found myself, and b) I think it might actually be better this way. I journaled the whole time I was there--y'know, with a notebook and a pen--but rehashing everything is letting me remember, relive, and relay the most important, lasting impressions. The moments of drama (of which there were few) or the days I was upset just seem to fade away, and everything I did and learned remain. This, I suppose, is that story.

My second camp was in a town called Marina di Carrara, a beautiful town by the sea, in fact, it's the port town of Carrara, where most of the white marble in the world comes from. The place is absolutely beautiful. I remember one day after camp my family took me to the beach, and I was standing in the water looking out at these beautiful marble mountains and thinking I might have died and gone to heaven. It was out of control. This was taken my first day there, when the sky wasn't even clear. They're still beautiful, and I miss being able to see them every day.

Camp here was an entirely different beast. It was much smaller and my class of nine had kids from 11 all the way up to 14 years old in it. I felt significantly more relaxed at this camp--probably because there were less kids and I'd already done one. Plus, I just revamped and recycled most of my lesson plans, although I had to add many more activities because it took these kids much less time to complete everything. Bingo, however, was still a huge hit, as it was with my first camp. I'm not sure why this was...

Anyway, here is one of the new activities I added, the Make A Monster game. The kids made some pretty cool creatures!

My class this time around was nine kiddos in total, as I said, again with varying levels of English. Some spoke very well and some... well, I was lucky they could ask to use the toilet. Here we all are in our class room on the last day.

This lo spetaccolo was about two dragons who stole the king's treasure, and it took two wizards and two knights to bring it back. It was cute, and the kiddos actually memorized their lines this time. My dragons also looked super cool, with claws, wings, and masks (which were terrifying for me but one must sacrifice for art). My crowning achievement, however, was on carnival day when we played Pin the Tail on the Dragon, and I drew the dragon. Which was pretty amazing considering I can't really draw much of anything besides stick people and tornadoes, with the occasional flower. Here he is, my little dragon. :) And of course, he was in the show too; I couldn't bear to part with him after only using him once.

Although camp was how I spent most of my time, this journey was really about so much more than that. This time around, I stayed with an amazing family with two adorable kiddos. They really took me in and made me feel like I was one of their own--a cool cousin or aunt, perhaps--and I could not have been more grateful for it. I had the whole top floor to myself, and a huge bed, and a real, stand-up shower--something that I'd noticed was lacking in several places in Italy. The family was amazing, too; my "dad," Michele, was a certified wine taster, so dinner was always a special treat. My "mom," Rossanna, was a great cook--although she would not claim to be--and her English was amazing. They were both extremely caring and excited to show me anything they could. In fact, within about two hours of picking me up at the train station, I was traipsing around this tiny mountain village called Nicola, which I'd seen from town. All I said was, "I'd love to go up there!" and then... we were there.

The town was tiny--only about 100 people, I guess--and there was no way you could get a car around any of the streets. The town was also, like most things in Italy, extremely old. And not, like, crappy American standards old, but legitimately over 500 years old. The dialect of Italian they spoke there was so different, Michele and Rossana could barely understand what they were saying. Here's a picture of three cats we came upon, lounging with no worry about being run over by a passing vehicle. This street is what most of the streets in Nicola looked like and can best be described as the definition of "quaint."

This panoramic is the view of Marina di Carrara from Nicola. The house were we all lived is there, somewhere.

I was happy in my first placement that there were no kids--no spontaneous baby sitting requests, no annoying video game noises, no having to awkwardly play with a kid that doesn't understand what I'm saying. But these kiddos were awesome. My first day my "sister", Monica taught me to play a card game (all in English, mind you) called Burraco, which I played literally every day with her little brother, Ale. Moni's English, as you can guess, was pretty darn near perfect, and Ale's was... well, we found a way to communicate. I actually found that most of the Italian I picked up was from the kids--they speak slowly and in easier words and often repeat the same thing. It was so cool that we actually learned from each other. But I digress... The kiddos were great little humans and I'm happy I stayed with them. Despite hearing camp songs outside of camp, and one night of Bungalowing during our dinner barbecue, it was great having them around. My family really believed in being a family--eating dinner together every night and playing and talking together. It was beautiful and, in today's world, rare.

They took me out to dinner on Friday night, my last day with them, and we ate seafood by the sea, and played a little Foosball. I miss them but know we'll keep in touch.

I mentioned at the train station on my first day that I noticed Pisa was close, and the day after I arrived, the family took me there. It was only 40 minutes by car, and Michele and Rossana had actually gone to school there. Michele was not only a wine taster extraordinaire, but a history buff, so he gave me the scoop on everything he could. It was awesome.

He told me that "the first look is the most important" so when I first saw the tower, I tried to appreciate the moment and take it all in. I'd missed the glimpse of it you can see from the road on the car ride over, so when I walked through the arches of the old city gate, I gasped. There it was... leaning just like you've always seen it. It looks exactly like I thought, almost to the point where it looks artificial. But it wasn't artificial. So of course, I took the obligatory "I'm holding up the tower" photo right away.

The tower is actually the bell tower of the church complex and the big building in front of it is the actual cathedral. As is true with every church I saw in Italy, the detail and construction of the entire complex was amazingly intricate and painfully lovely. These people knew how to build God's house and churches here just don't look the same to me anymore. Here's some of the detail on the tower...

The doors of the church were cast in bronze. Students at the university, before an exam, would go to these doors and touch their favorite animal for luck. Here you can see part of the door, and a spot on the lower left that's been rubbed more than others...

Finally, I learned that each city has its own flag, along with the Italian flag. This is Pisa's.

For the weekend I had in Marina di Carrara, I went to Cinque Terre with two other tutors on the Saturday and had family time on Sunday. Cinque Terre was the place everyone told me I NEEDED to see in Italy, even moreso than Rome. It's this little collection of five (cinque) towns on the side of a mountain and on the sea. It is so beautiful and picturesque there it's hard to describe, and, looking at what I've just written, the words can not possibly do this magical place justice.

Since there are five towns, and we wanted to see all five, we took the train to the last one, Monterroso, and worked our way back towards the first. We hiked our way from #5 to #4, Vernazza. And it was a hike. I sweated THROUGH the straps of my backpack (attractive, I know) and struggled with my sunglasses, which broke before I even got out of the train station. Eventually, they fell down into some trees and were lost for good. The hike took, according to Rick Steves, about 90 minutes, but I think we took longer because we took breaks and stopped to look at the amazing scenery unfolding around every bend in the road and break in the trees. Like this...

That was looking back at where we'd come from, and realizing just how far we still had to go...

Every step, though sweaty, was worth it. We got to #4 hot, hungry, and sweaty, but happy. I felt good about accomplishing the hike, and better about finding lunch! We ate at a place recommended by, you guessed it, Rick Steves, which proved to be delicious. I ate a local dish, which was fish and potatoes in a tomato-y sauce. Some evil olives sneaked into the dish (they were NOT in the description!) and I managed to give them all away except for one that snuck past me. Gross. It didn't, however, ruin the dish.

We hopped on the train to see village #3, Cornelia, where we paused for some jump shots and some more scenery. This is my favorite photo of the day.

Oh, to be the people on that beautiful sailboat...

We had wanted to hike to town #2, Manarola, but the trail was closed for some reason, so we hopped on the train. From #2 to #1, Riomaggiore, there is a walk called the Via dell'amore, the Pathway of Love, built, at first, as a trail between the two towns, uniting them where before they had been isolated. The people of the two villiages liked the trail so much, and the opportunities it presented for them to meet people from the other town, they asked that it be improved. Over the years, couples began to put graffiti and locks all along the trail, signifying their undying love for another. The trail still bears these marks today--and many more. The locks are hooked onto anything along the trail you can imagine, they keys theoretically tossed into the sea nearby, like the ones here.

I thought it was rather nice that people still believe in that sort of thing. Anyway, we headed to Riomaggiore and had a wander around and a glass of wine after a long, hot, amazing day. I had the Cinque Terre D.O.C wine, actually made there, and brought a bottle back for the family, which we drank with dinner at Nona and Nono's house two nights later. This was the view from a little bridge overlooking part of Riomaggiore. Somewhere down there is the little cafe where we enjoyed a glass of wine. Not bad, huh?

On Sunday, Family Day, my family took me to the quarries in the morning for the Marmo Tour (Marble Tour) and then to a place called Malaspina (Bad Thorn) Castle. The quarries, those white mountains I saw on the first day, is pretty much where all of the white marble in the world comes from. Michelangelo got some marble there for several of his works, and the world's foremost marble carving (sculpting?) school is in Carrara. So they've made a tourist attraction out of the quarry, and it's THE thing to do in Carrara (duh) so we did it. Rossana had never actually been there before, so she stuck with me on the English tour and we experienced it together. The entire tour was fascintating, actually, and I learned WAY more about marble than I will ever need to know, but it was interesting anyway.

I learned all about how they cut the giant blocks of marble, how the guys of old who worked there lived, what marble dust is used for (toothpaste!), and what an "iron pillow" is. No, it's not the most uncomfortable bed pillow in the world--it's for wedging between a block of marble and the wall from which it's cut to split the two apart. Anyway, we were inside the actual mountain where marble is cut. You can tell by my hardhat...

And the tunnel you see here is a short one--the one we had to drive through to enter the quarry was about 300 feet long (I think...). It may have just seemed that long... But it was longer than the one here.

After a morning of getting our marble on, we came back to the house for lunch, and set out again to see the castle, which has been around since, I think, the 13th century. The castle was built as a fortress, so it's on the top of this hill where you can see for miles and miles (good choice, I'd say) and inside its walls is the town of Fosdinovo, where people still live. The thought that people have been walking, living, loving, shopping, playing, and dying there for hundreds of years sort of blows my mind. Here's a view of Fosdinovo looking out from the castle.

And here's a shot of the castle itself, as we walked up the hill towards it...

Legit.

The castle tour was only in Italian, so I didn't catch much but I had a little pamphlet that explained a bunch of stuff, and Michele and Rossana helped me when and where they could. Some of the castle was actually closed, because the family lives there in the summer. In fact we ran into the newest member of the family, little Anna, on our walk around the grounds.

This wall shows the family symbol of the Malaspina, the white branch with the thorns on it. This wall was SO cool looking!

The castle has, as most really old things do, a pretty fascinating history (kidnapped babies, seized power, raping, pillaging, princesses buried in the walls, lovers dropping through holes in the floor, you name it) and actually housed Dante Alighieri for a time, which is depicted on several murals found in one of the halls of the castle. There are even, they say, ghosts. If you want to read more about the entire place, click here.

Throught my time in beautiful Marina di Carrara, I did so many things. I took a walk out on the pier at night with Rossana, I ate delicious gelato several times at Rosselini's, the best gelataria in town, went to the ocean for an afternoon swim, played countless games of Burraco. We walked around Carrara one evening before dinner and I saw the church where Michele and Rossana got married. One night, we all ate dinner with Rossana's parents, who were perfectly lovely, and we listened to her father's stories of WWII, which were fascinating, eye-opening, and sad, and then proceeded to get my butt kicked at Burraco, even though her father, who was my partner, is a champion. One night, all of the girls even got to meet up with one of the first people I met in Europe, way back in Nice, whose camp was very close to ours. We went out for a gelato, a beer, and a walk, and talked about camp. It was great to have some girl time!

I will always look back on my time here with nothing but fond memories and love for this place. I miss it so much; my little adopted town between the sea and the mountains where I found a family.

For the full album of pictures on Facebook, click here.

More to come in a final installment.

Much love.